


You'll See What Good Behaivor Can Do

by Sarcastic_CurlyFry



Series: The C'set La Vie Universe [1]
Category: Catch Me If You Can (2002)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_CurlyFry/pseuds/Sarcastic_CurlyFry
Summary: Carl visits Frank on Christmas in the Juvenile Detention Center they locked him in. A slight re-imagining of a scene from the movie.





	You'll See What Good Behaivor Can Do

**Author's Note:**

> Title credit goes to the song Stuck Together from Catch Me If You Can: The Musical.  
> It's a little short but I'll steadily make my entries longer, it's finals week, cut me some slack.   
> All rights go to their proper owners, I only own my personal writing.

He was just a kid. A criminal, stealing money like it didn't matter but even so, he was a kid nonetheless. This is the one thought that ran through the mind of one Carl Hanratty. He’d finally caught the kid but he didn't feel a sense of accomplishment, instead he felt guilt, with a little bit of empathy mixed in to really make him feel like shit. Luckily, the kid got to be tried as a minor in a court of law and would be released at 18. This gave Carl some relief, even though he struggled to imagine the kid thrown in a place full of underage murderers. At least he wouldn't be around the other kids as much, the judge said he was to be mostly kept in solitary confinement and, to be plainly honest, Carl couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing. 

Carl decided to visit Frank two weeks into his prison sentence. He really did care for the kid, chasing someone as clever and sad as Frank for a year is quite the bonding experience. Carl steps into the visiting hall of the high security juvie center. Passing chair after chair until he lands at the one with Frank sitting behind the glass. Carl throws the comic books down on the counter between them, The Flash was printed in bold red writing across the tops of them, it was a joke on when Frank had used the name Barry Allen when they encountered one another for the first time. 

Carl plops down in the chair and casually removes his hat from his head, fiddling with the brim before placing it next to the comic books. 

“Hey kid, I brought you some comic books,” Carl drawls, lazily picking up one of the books before dropping it back onto the counter. Frank looks unamused, his normally striking blue eyes appear dull, lacking their usual spark. 

“What’s the briefcase for?” Frank asks, though curiosity is devoid from his raspy voice. 

“I’m heading to the airport, we got a new paper hanger making his way through Minnesota, the guy’s driving us crazy.” Carl explains to the kid. 

“Do you have any of the checks?” Frank asks, the clever spark returning to his eyes as he moves closer towards the glass. 

“Yeah, got one right here,” Carl pulls the check from his briefcase, placing it up to the glass so the kid can see it. 

“He’s just using a stencil machine and an Underwood,” Carl tells the him. 

The kids eyes scan the paper, “Yeah, it’s the teller at the bank.” 

Carl looks at the kid, shocked and a little weary, “Say again?” 

Frank goes on to explain, in great detail, why it has to be the teller at the bank. Honestly, the kid is a true genius, especially when it comes to checks. 

“Thanks,” Carl whispers, shock radiating on his face. 

“So, Frank, how’s prison treating you?” Frank looks anything but amused, his eyes dropping to the counter between them. 

“It’s fine, Carl,” his voice slurring with resignation. The bell rings across the visiting hall, alerting them all to the fact that their meeting time was over. 

“Merry Christmas, kid,” Carl tells him, sliding the comic books under the glass and packing his things. 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas Carl,” the kid sighs, resting his face on his hands. 

Just as Carl is leaving, he hears Frank’s distinct voice, 

“Call your daughter, Carl.” 

And if Carl called his daughter when he got home, well then Frank would be none the wiser.


End file.
